


"There's a Monster in My Head"

by centroid



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Anxiety, Fuck This, Highschool AU, M/M, Songfic, ease, my life, songfic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:45:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4936444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centroid/pseuds/centroid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan had always been afraid of dying. That was nothing new.<br/>“I don’t want to die mommy, I don’t want to. I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to die.” He sobbed, his shaking fingers finding the smooth skin of his mother’s wrist.<br/>As Dan grew up, his fear stayed, but spread. That, was new.<br/>From the impending feeling of death and hopelessness, to things like talking to people and leaving home. He later identified the feeling as ‘anxiety’.<br/>“I was fine this summer, I was fine yesterday! There’s a monster in my head and I can’t act like I should be able to! Like I used to be able to... If there was something wrong then I'd be able to fix it, but there's nothing!” Dan finished, breathing heavily. He slammed his balled fists into his thighs, in a way to scold himself for being so damn weak. Surprisingly, the act of telling someone his fears calmed him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"There's a Monster in My Head"

**Author's Note:**

> so this fic is very personal to me. why? because this was my childhood. okay well only apart of it. but this is the story of my anxiety (although not all of it, most of it) and these are some of the situations I've experienced. although not completely accurate to reality, i made it fit the story. i also have no romantic affiliation with my best friend. but i had to with dan and phil like yas. okay- enjoy!

Dan had always been afraid of dying. That was nothing new.

Since he was a child, he was always running to his mother, begging her to make the feeling of dread lift off his heart. Mother’s were said to be able to fix anything, right?

Wrong. As he learned, there was no remedy to his quickened heart and stomach feeling tugged six feet under. Guilt would always wash through his limbs, without fail. “Mommy, I feel like I stole someone's life. Not that I killed them, but as if I took something I could never give back. Something that isn't truly mine. Make it stop, kiss it better, something, please.” Dan would say in between sobs, hysteric fits of just wanting the feeling to go away.

It never worked.

He would lay on his bed, legs angled up the wall like he was really sitting on his back. He would stare at the ceiling, tears streaking out the sides of his eyes, leaving devastation in their wake. He never knew how to control his emotions anyway.

When Dan looks back on the memory, he is reminded of people asking if he is ok, and disproportionate hands in cartoon like fashions.

This went on for years, other kids telling him of ghosts, hauntings and happenings. From the story about a girl’s mean dead grandmother being outside the school waiting for her on a rainy day, little children who fell down the steps at the statehouse- haunting the halls there, to being told about bloody mary on the bus, he was intrigued, but terrified. He hid his mirror for over three months. Each story made him more and more scared to live, every turn holding more horror for him to find through his child-like view of life.

The night his classmate told him about her dead grandmother, he ran to his mother sobbing, about two hours past his bedtime. Two hours wasted to the thoughts and fears of being dead, gone, and forgotten. He was the only one upstairs in the darkened home, and that only freaked him out more- even with the hall light on and bedroom door open. Not that seeing did much, all he looked at was the ceiling, through clouded vision. Not only did he feel suffocated by the silence of the immediate area around him, but he also felt utterly alone, no matter how loud the tv was downstairs. So he quietly made his way to where his mother and sisters were. Approaching his mom, he slightly feared her scolding him for staying up so late, but once she saw his tear ridden face, he knew the only thing on her mind was concern.

“What’s wrong honey?” She asked ever so gently, her question was like giving Dan an invitation to go closer, so he ran up to his mother’s body and grabbed what he could- her sleeve. It made him feel less alone, like he wasn’t just a measly mind in a sea of intellectual integrity, also called the world. He felt like his struggles were measley, like he wouldn’t be granted any source of compassion when his heart was still plagued with a guilt he could never rid himself of.

“I don’t want to die mommy, I don’t want to. I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to leave you. I don't want you to leave me. I don’t want to die.” He sobbed, his shaking fingers finding the smooth skin of his mother’s wrist. He felt her small gold chain, probably a gift from her boyfriend, Robby- Dan liked him a lot, but he didn’t live where they lived yet. His terror was temporarily subdued by this thought, but just as soon as it left, the thought of dying was back and looming over him like the black cloud in depression commercials.

  
As Dan grew up, his fear stayed, but spread. That, was new. From the impending feeling of death and hopelessness, to things like talking to people and leaving home. He later identified the feeling as ‘anxiety’.

Going to school became a problem when he was 17. The feeling of overwhelming panic rose in his throat, and all he wanted to do was curl in corner and cry. The first day of school involved a lot of that, crying. He got there, met up with his friend, and while going to the library so Phil could print something out before classes, he started crying. No one was really in the halls, but that didn’t do much to quelch the humiliation in his mind and the red rimming his eyes. The mere thought of not being in the comfort of his own home sent flashes of trepidation up his spine. The thought of not wanting to cry, while being told by his body that he, indeed, did want to cry, was very confusing.

Phil pulled him to the side of the hall and engulfed him into a hug, “There’s no reason to panic, Dan.” Phil was right in telling him that. “I’m here. Nothing bad is going to happen while I’m here.” It was Dan and Phil’s fourth year at this school, and their last before going off to a college or university of their choice. Something about the walls this time around felt empty, uninviting to the sensitive teen. That morning, the thought of going to school made him want to cry, but he withheld- until now. There was no calming down, Dan’s heart wouldn’t just let him breathe, and his eyes wouldn’t stop making tears, the goal; to shed his dignity. After two phone calls and many texts reading _‘i don’t want to be here’ ‘i want to be home’ ‘i don’t want to cry here please let me come home’ ‘please’_  he finally convinced his mother to let him leave school.

On his way home, he was stopped by a woman who opened with “I’m a walker and I’m a talker.” She was correct.

When Dan stated he was a senior in the school right behind him, he thought he was going to be scolded for leaving school before it had even started, but instead she had a hand extended to him.

“Thank you.” The woman said to him, merely for being him. It was a new experience.

“What do you do for a living?” Dan asked the woman.

“I’m a nurse!” She brightly responded, obviously taking pride in her career- something Dan hoped to be able to do someday.

“Ah- well, Thank _you_.” Dan repeated, smiling at the woman and extending his hand for a handshake. He eventually had to part, “Something happened at home.” Semi true. Something happened, and now he had to go home. Dan was never one to open up to any random face, but it certainly brightened his day. He still sees her walking the streets of his town. Sometimes on his way into school with Phil, and sometimes when he’s going to breakfast with his sisters and father, something that proved to be treacherous a long time ago. He smiles at the nickname the woman gave him- although he couldn’t really remember it if you asked him.

Phil came over that night. Although Dan was fine for the moment, his eyes were puffy and he was hiccupping; the after affect of sobbing. Dan had started panicking again once Phil left the room for a glass of water, the thought of growing up, going to school and being in classes he didn’t want, overriding his mind with unstoppable panic. It was his last year of required schooling. What was he gonna do? He had his whole future set out in front of him, and he _just didn't know what to do._

The thought made him start to cry again.

When Phil walked back in, he immediately placed the glasses of water on Dan’s desk, and glided through the air to wrap his arms around the shaking boy.

The brunette immediately clung to Phil, needing something to make him feel real- make him feel apart of the world and not some figment of some measly story with no meaning. Feeling his skin slide against Phil’s was sending shocks down his spine- but maybe that was the sensory overload, and not the attraction for the slightly older male.

Phil guided Dan’s head to his chest, and the younger could hear his heartbeat mismatching his own, and it was oddly comforting. He could be sure there was someone with him. Someone he could trust to be this vulnerable around, and Phil was the only person he had like this, other than his mom. He hated burdening her like this though. But she would always make him tea whenever he was feeling giddy. The thought made him smile slightly.

He was ripped out of his thoughts when Phil spoke next.

“Is someone at school bothering you? Is someone making fun of you? Is a teacher mean?” He whispered into Dan’s ear. Both of the boys felt that the moment could be broken like a glass slipper, even if Dan’s heaving could do that- it didn’t.

This question made Dan break yet again. “No Phil, there’s nothing wrong! That’s why I hate it so much!” Dan’s sobs shook his body to the point of caving in on himself, using his sleeves to try and collect the evidence of his despair. “I should be able to walk in there and go to school normally, but I can’t! Nothing is wrong but I can’t act right!” Dan was in hysterics by now and he couldn't will himself to stop. “I was fine this summer, I was fine yesterday! There’s a monster in my head and I can’t act like I should be able to! Like I used to be able to... If there was something wrong then I'd be able to fix it, but there's nothing!” Dan finished, breathing heavily. He slammed his balled fists into his thighs, in a way to scold himself for being so damn weak. Surprisingly, the act of telling someone his fears calmed him. After more reassuring hugs from Phil, he was left alone, and the feeling of being alone was, for once, small in the back of his mind.

He texted Phil if he could drive Dan to school from then on. Phil replied with an ‘ _of course <3_’ that made the youngers heart skip a beat.

The next day he had his first class of PreCal, and he was terrified. He sat down in his seat, going rigid. This teacher was known for being mean, and having notions about people before she even knew them. He was like a rock the whole class, other than the stuttering beat of his heart and his mind willing his eyes not to cry. He couldn’t do this class, he didn’t know any of this stuff! Between listening to the teacher and being scared about how this would go, he refused to take out his phone. If that got taken away then he would definitely cry. The teacher was extremely nice, though. Contrary to popular belief. Maybe she could sense Dan’s fear, for when he walked up to to her at the end of class, she was nothing but pleasant, and when he explained how his mom made him switch into the class, she agreed that he should not be in an advanced class like PreCal. Not with the 65 he got in Algebra last year. He switched back into the normal placement senior class by the end of the day.

Later, near lunch, he was walking around the school with his headphones in, listening to Troye Sivan’s new album. More specifically, Ease. He loved that song the most.

_I'm down to my skin and bone_

_And my mommy, she can't put down the phone_

_And stop asking how I'm doing all alone, alone_

_But the truth is the stars are falling, ma_

_And the wolves are out c-calling, ma_

_And my home has never felt this far_

Dan was rounding the corner, nearing his shared locker with Phil. His locker wouldn’t open two years ago, so he just stopped using it. Dan was so emotionally connected to the song, so invested in the song that he was quietly singing to himself. Something he did so often, but every time he did sing, his friends would will him to make videos of it for youtube, or make them covers of their favorite songs. He still wasn’t sure.

_Take me back to the basics and the simple life_

_Tell me all of the things that make you feel at ease_

_Your touch, my comfort, and my lullaby_

He was getting his things ready for his next class after lunch when a new teacher whom he had never seen before, approached him. Thinking the teacher was going to ask for directions, he took his headphone out.

“You can’t wear those in school.” He stated after introducing himself.

“Um… Ok.” Dan replied, stunned, his music still blaring. He knew music helped him. He fell asleep, showered, got ready, danced, did school work, and walked around the school while listening to music. It was a comfort, and it wasn’t even class time, so what the hell? The man had already left, so he stuffed his headphone back into his ear, and slammed his locker. Fuck that.

Even if he was mad, the feeling of being scolded for something that made him feel so calm didn’t sit well with him. It made him feel vulnerable and naked. And he has never felt comfortable naked. He slowly took out his headphones, but continued singing the song to himself in the empty halls. He was angry, but his next class was with Phil and he didn’t want to ruin his mood just because of some rude teacher. Plus he could listen to music in art. He smiled at the thought.

_But I can't help feeling like I'm all alone, all alone_

_The truth is, the stars are falling, babe_

_And I'd never ever thought that I would say_

_I'm afraid of the life that I've made, I've made_

Dan stalked down the hall, slightly fuming. He’s been in school for long enough to know the rules. He didn’t need a weird dude telling him that he couldn’t use what made him feel safe.

His mom thinks his anxiety is because he stopped taking his medicine over the summer, and so he started the year still staying off it. Well, it was an nervous system stimulant, so yeah it could block out anxiety, but it made him a zombie. An emotionless vegetable. He physically could not be happy when he wanted to. The emotions he did have were angry and irritated on his medicine. It was prescribed for ADHD in second grade, but now it was his anxiety medication. He still didn’t want to take it. During that summer, he was himself. He was hyper, giddy, happy, and full of energy, but it felt great to be himself for such a long time. Now he couldn’t be himself, and he didn’t know how he felt about it. Well, he knew how he would feel about it, if he could fucking feel anything.

For the next two or three days he still couldn't stop crying when it came to thinking about school. It was always around seven or eight at night. Maybe it was medicine wearing off, or it was the fact then when he started thinking about school, and thinking about the fact that he was in his own home, but he suddenly felt so far from the people in it. It could have been any of the those things, but each time, he called Phil, who only lived a street over from him.

“Are you sure nothing in particular bothering you?” Phil would carefully ask.

“Yes, everything is fine, I’m just… not.” Dan would sigh, helplessly.

_Every time I think I'm better_

_Pickin' my head up, getting nowhere_

“Hey, yes you are fine. It’s anxiety. I have it too. I just learned to live with it a long time ago. You’ll get the hang of it soon, I’ll be there for you when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, okay? and I’ll still be there when you feel just fine.”

Dan ran out of his medicine, and he feels fine. Now this was new too. Yeah he’d rather stay in his house and not go outside, but he has to sometimes. There are things that still bug him. Like the nagging feeling at the bottom of his stomach every sunday that he knew he had homework to do, and still stays on tumblr until 11 at night. Or when he’s overwhelmed with the feeling of despair that he can’t seem to grasp. The times he’s afraid of dying. The times he feels alone. The times he feels panic crawling up his spine and his breath running faster than his legs can carry. The good part is, he knows he’s going to be okay at the end of the day.

_Holdin' on tight and sleepin' at night_

_**Holdin' on tight and sleepin' at night** _


End file.
